Huh, I Really Do Wonder
by abrainiac
Summary: Okay, another one-shot! It's kinda confusing, so be warned! If you don't like the complicated mind-tricks crap, then this isn't your story. If you want to see if you can understand the workings of a crazy person's mind, read on! Rated for language.


(A/N): Okay, be warned, this makes no sense. Unless you - like me - are completely off your rocker, this will be out of your reach. No insults, it's more of a compliment either way. Either you're sane enough to know what's good for you, or you're insane enough to compare to me (which is really saying something). So this is something I wrote more thinking of Kurt, but using actual experiences. Tell me if you like it. It's PRETTY out there... =D

Disclaimer: I'm pretty sure you would be made aware if I owned Glee. I would make several cameos, and Kurt and Finn would have TOTALLY hooked up by now. =D

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You'd never guess how much I hate myself. You would never guess because I speak of myself so damn highly. I act superior. I often quote myself because I feel it adds spice to a conversation. But all of that… it's a lie.

I suppose you could say I have multiple personalities to the extreme. I am, quite literally, two different people. When you first meet me, you will not be meeting the real me. You'll be meeting the one that says, "Hello, I'm Kurt Hummel, pleased to make your acquaintance," while sticking my nose in the air.

But the real me – the one that's inside – is just yelling, "PLEASE DON'T HATE ME! I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF EVERYONE JUST IGNORING ME OR MAKING MY LIFE HELL! PLEASE, JUST BE THAT ONE PERSON WHO DOESN'T CONSIDER ME A FREAK OF NATURE! PLEASE, BE THAT ONE PERSON WITH A _BRAIN_ IN THIS COW TOWN!"

Well, that's not exactly what the inside me is saying. It actually uses far more profanities, but who really needs to know the details?

If people met the real me, I would have fewer friends than I already do. And boy would _that_ be pathetic. I bet not even Mercedes would stick with me, if she knew all the wicked thoughts that run through my head.

Not only am I two different people, but those parts of me hate each other. The one on top is so freaking full of itself! The inner me just can't stand people like that (*cough cough* RACHEL *cough cough). They're always at war. The bitchy, inside me is always trying to convince the cover-up me to let it come out, just for a moment.

Usually, the top one wins, but on a couple of occasions, the dark, sinister real me comes out. Those are always terrible moments, and that top me always regrets letting its twin be set free.

The real me is selfish; it is always lusting after one Finn Hudson. The real me is evil; always plotting to overthrow the fake me – the one that keeps me sane. The real me is hideous; it's so twisted with desire to shine, with hurt, and with mistakes that there's no way for it to be beautiful.

The fake me is kind; mostly to friends, but the top me gives others a chance. The fake me is brave; it can but on that calm face, the superior one that keeps both parts safe. The fake me is proud; it loves who it is, and wouldn't trade itself for the world.

Given all of that, I'd take up the real me's side in an instant. It's the one I relate to. It may not be perfect – very far from it in fact – but it knows that. It's painfully aware of itself, of its greatest desires. Heck, the real me occasionally does stuff for other people! Throwing the diva-off, yeah, that was the real me's idea. It didn't want to keep up that 'oh, I think I'm so perfect' appearance anymore. It sacrificed. But… it really only did it because my dad is one of it's greatest desires. It was both a selfish and generous move in one – I guess that's why I respect the genius that is the real me.

The fake me – though it is so much easier to deal with – bugs me. It bugs me because it _just isn't me._ It's what I want to be. I guess seeing what you want is different than just wanting it. It's the me that everyone views. It's the one that people have come to somewhat respect. It's the me that everyone expects to see. It can't stand to let people down, to do something other than the status quo.

It all gets jumbled in my head. I know which one I _call_ the real me… but is it really? It's the me that no one knows, but is it completely me? I'm not sure. And that's why I hate myself so much. I confuse myself. I'm always fighting with myself. I always drive myself insane.

I hate myself because I know that I'm really not either one of those me's. The real one is the one writing this story. The real one is the one that admires both of the other me's so much. It's the one that's confused. It's the imperfect one…

It's the one that I hate.

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(A/N): Did you follow at all? Reading back through, I definitely didn't! Okay, so I'm wondering if you guys want to read some of the poetry I write. I'm definitely NO SHAKESPEARE, but it's not completely horrific. Tell me if you wanna see it... =D I love you guys so much. REVIEW PLEASE!


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